


i'm not okay (but i'm fine)

by retroyangs



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28058172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retroyangs/pseuds/retroyangs
Summary: "Sometimes," Donghyuck is the first to speak. His tone is light, a mere whisper, but the sentence that follows has always weighed heavily on his mind, the implications of it all. What saying it will mean for them, going forward. "You're the only thing that keeps me going."Mark pauses. There's a rustle through the phone and Donghyuck can picture him adjusting in bed, gnawing on his bottom lip as he ponders what to say."You never seemed to need me."(or, Mark is thousands of miles away and Donghyuck is completely, absolutely, wholeheartedly fine with it. No matter what anyone else says.)
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 56
Kudos: 679





	i'm not okay (but i'm fine)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This is the first fic I've ever taken somewhat seriously, so I hope it's turned out alright. Big thanks to my friends Aiden and Lilac for cheering me on throughout, and reading through this before I decided to post. I love you both!
> 
> No warnings should be needed, the angst is minimal as it's quite a soft fic haha.
> 
> Enjoy x

The question comes first from Johnny, sitting beside him on his tiny bed. Frankly, Donghyuck had been expecting it to come up in conversation for a while, ever since they’d decided to play a game together and there had been a weird tension in the air, almost suffocatingly so. As if there’s something unspeakable between them, neither of them willing to acknowledge it until the other chooses to. And Donghyuck doesn’t plan to be the one to do so. 

The game they’re playing reverberates loudly, but neither of them pay it any mind. They’re the only ones home, the other members on their floor choosing to spend their days anywhere that isn’t connected to their jobs — a wise decision, but one Donghyuck can barely muster the strength to do. It’s part of the reason Johnny must have his suspicions, not that Donghyuck isn’t an avid game player, but that he’d turned down the chance to be pampered by his older members. 

With Johnny so close to him that their shoulders brush, Donghyuck doesn’t have to take a glance to feel how tense he is, waiting for an opportune moment to pry open his heart. No doubt at the request of someone else, Doyoung maybe. They tend to plan these sorts of things together.

Shaking his head, Donghyuck squints at the screen to reacquaint himself with the game he’s since zoned out of. Thankfully, his character hasn’t suffered an unfortunate fate in his mental absence, but Johnny isn’t as lucky as he grunts some colourful language. Namely, “fuck.” 

His roommate throws the controller against the pillow and falls backwards, his full weight dipping the bed slightly. His arms lift to cover his eyes as he lets out a heavy sigh. 

“You give up that easily?” Donghyuck goes for a lighthearted prod in an attempt to diffuse some of the lingering tension, but it sounds more tired than anything. “I’m disappointed, bro.” His eyes sting as he blinks at the television, slightly blurred, and pauses the game. The noise immediately cuts off, drowning them in silence. 

In the quietness of it all, the feelings he’s so accustomed to pushing down arise with newfound determination, and his gut wrenches horribly. 

The downside to having members who know him better than he knows himself, means that Donghyuck’s silence is enough to stir Johnny, even though he’d never responded in the first place. His hands fall away from his face, watching him with careful intensity. It leaves Donghyuck reeling with an onslaught of vulnerability, a state most can never get him to. He uncrosses his legs, staring determinedly at the screen. While Johnny can’t hear his thoughts, he can probably read everything on his face clear as day. 

But can he, and by extension the other members, really tell how he’s been feeling from a single glance? Do the falter in his steps, the stumbles through a sentence, shout out his thoughts now more than ever? He hasn’t even taken the time to unravel the mess inside his heart — he can’t imagine the other members would have any such luck. 

When ten seconds pass and Johnny hasn’t stopped his staring, Donghyuck finally decides to grace him with an opening to pry. It’s akin to ripping off the bandaid, getting the conversation over sooner rather than later, so things can go back to normal and Johnny can stop wondering. “What’re you looking at?” 

The response is immediate. Johnny sits to face Donghyuck, eyes boring into his soul. He ignores Donghyuck’s groaned protest against his actions. He despises serious conversations. “Are you okay?”

All humans have certain responses when confronted with a fearful situation. Fight or flight, as the big people with the brains like to say. Donghyuck has always proposed a third option for himself — snark. “Of course I’m okay. What kind of stupid question is that?” 

Johnny doesn’t take the bait. Unfortunately, the guy really does know him well. “Don’t be like that man. We’ve just noticed some things, and I said I’d ask you since we’re close.” 

“ _We’ve?_ ”

Johnny nods, but he remains careful in his choice of words. “Yeah. The other members. And me, obviously.” 

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, chewing on the inside of his cheek. At least he’d been correct in assuming they’d had talks about it, and attempted to decode what’s been going on in his head the past couple weeks. He hadn’t thought he’d been that obvious — a few slip ups at practice, a couple fights with anyone who has tried to confront him about anything. Anyone who tries to bring up the very topic he’s been avoiding. But the fact that they’ve had group discussions about it, it doesn’t feel good at all.

He scoffs. “Well I’m fine. Can we go back to the game, or are we done?” 

Johnny, ever so determined, carries on. “Look, Donghyuck, it’s okay to have those days, we all get them. We’re just worried it’s part of a bigger issue and if you don’t talk about them, it’ll just get worse. You can’t keep pushing away your feelings, it’s not good for your health. We don’t want anything to happen to you, you know?” 

His words are kind, but they hit close to home. He’s been in trouble for pushing away things before. But this isn’t pushing away, this is purposeful ignorance on his part. He knows he has the feelings he does, he just chooses to wait to confront them at a more reasonable time. The way Johnny phrases it, it sounds more serious than it is. But he has everything handled.

“There aren’t any feelings to push away,” Donghyuck groans, standing up to set aside his own controller. It’s clear their game isn’t continuing, not if the entire point of Johnny playing was to get him to open up. “I don’t even know where this is coming from. I’ve been totally fine. Maybe a little off, but so has Doyoung, and no one’s said anything. Or are you planning to talk to him too?” 

Johnny takes a second to reply, which if anything, worries Donghyuck more about what he has to say. “Doyoung’s been open about why he’s been lagging behind. Look, we just thought.... maybe— with Mark gone—“ 

Donghyuck immediately holds up a hand, mouth setting into a thin line. “Don’t go there,” he responds sharply. 

Johnny falls silent, expression unreadable. 

“I’m fine. I promise,” he tacks on, an effort to smooth over any hurt feelings. “If you think you’ve noticed something, it’s just the usual stress. I want everything to be perfect for the fans. I’m just having an off period, okay? Honestly. Mark— it has nothing to do with Mark.” He pointedly ignores the rasp to his last words, and how he’s a big liar.

Johnny either doesn’t want to poke the bear, or he’s satisfied with his answer. Donghyuck doesn’t particularly care either way, as long as he refrains from mentioning their conversation again. “Alright. Just looking out for you, kid.” 

“I know,” Donghyuck forces a smile, but even to him it feels off. He hopes it fools Johnny. 

He wants to fool himself, too. But it sticks with him, his stress, tiredness, inability to function like he’s supposed to. The core reasoning is that he's doing so much to ignore what he wants to think about most, the reason Johnny had come so close to discovering. 

His smile fades as quickly as it had arisen. 

The question comes next from Jeno, later that same day. After the conversation with Johnny, it was clear he and Donghyuck weren’t going to be able to pretend like it hadn't happened, so they'd gone their separate ways, no hard feelings. Jeno had texted Donghyuck asking if he'd wanted to meet in their practice room, and it had all seemed to work out conveniently. 

And then it hadn’t. 

Jeno had spent most of the time watching him with careful eyes, waiting for a slip up. For why, Donghyuck hadn’t been able to determine, and had instead let himself mess around like he’s always enjoyed doing. They practiced their own songs, they danced to other groups, and they poked fun at each other just as it’s always been. He’s been missing Dream, not seeing them in his free time as much as he’d like, so he’s been enjoying the chance to catch up on the happenings at their dorms.

Of course, Donghyuck grows tired. His mood lately hasn’t been the best, and neither has his stamina. He fumbles on a couple moves, is late to others, and Jeno catches him wincing in the mirror. 

That’s when the question finally makes an appearance.

“Are you okay, Hyuck?” 

“Not you too,” Donghyuck groans, not even able to hold back his annoyance. 

Jeno frowns, but doesn’t broach that particular topic. His tone has been enough of a warning to back off, it seems. “You just seem a little off. More than usual.” 

Donghyuck takes the opportunity to slump to the ground, resting his forehead against the cool floor. He’s worked up a sweat, and his chest heaves as he catches his breath for the first time in a while. “Just tired. That’s all. You know how it is.” 

Silence falls, but Donghyuck’s gaze follows Jeno in the mirror, who is still staring at him with concern. It ticks him off, how everyone can’t seem to take the hint that it isn’t something he doesn’t want to talk about, and how it isn’t a big deal. “Out with it.” He decides, then and there, to get it over with. It’s clear it isn’t going to stop until everyone gets a chance to lecture him. 

“Huh?” Jeno moves to sit beside him, sneakers squeaking on the floor. 

Donghyuck grits his teeth. “Whatever you want to say. Just say it. I’m sick of people treating me like I’m made of glass. Just tell me.” 

He doesn’t necessarily want to hear what Jeno has to say, but he doesn’t expect what comes out of his mouth, and it makes him freeze. 

“I think you should call Mark.” 

His blood runs cold, the words eating at his heart. It’s the last thing he expects anyone to say, even Johnny who tried to bring it up before being shut down. He doesn’t even know how to form a response that won’t give himself away, crack open a bit of his heart for the world to see. 

Donghyuck tries to laugh it off, sounding nervous even to his own ears. “Don’t be stupid.” 

“I’m serious,” Jeno clenches and unclenches his fists, arm flexing. He’s stretching because it’s clearly the end of their practice, and it’s how casual he sounds that gnaws at Donghyuck the most. Like it’s a fact that he needs to call Mark, that it’s something they all have figured out. That they’ve figured him out. “I think you need it.” 

“I don’t need anything,” he’s quick to snap. “Least of all Mark.” 

Jeno raises an eyebrow, and it has Donghyuck flushing red under his scrutiny. Twice today he’s felt this— this— gross feeling of vulnerability, and it’s making his head spin. He doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to think about it. 

“Please don’t lie to yourself,” Jeno says, suddenly quiet, like a louder volume is what will set Donghyuck off, not his choice of words. “You don’t have to share it with any of us, but don’t do that to yourself.” 

Tears prick Donghyuck’s eyes, trying to force their way out. He swallows thickly, not letting them pass. Now isn’t the time. It’s never the time. 

“I’m fine.” He brings himself to stand, swaying lightly on his feet. His bag lays discarded near the door, and he heads towards it. “I was fine when he was here, and I’m fine now that he’s not. It’s not like he’s dead.” 

He hears Jeno sigh from across the room. “Just think about it.” His eyes are swimming with sincerity and sympathy, and Donghyuck’s stomach curls. 

“I don’t need to. I’m fine.” 

Donghyuck boldly assumes that Jeno would be the last person he’d have to face about this particular topic. Instead, hovering near the door when he arrives back to the dorms, is a worried Doyoung. 

Donghyuck doesn’t waste any time, throwing his back on the floor and hopping onto one of the barstools. “What is it?” 

Doyoung follows him, stepping into the kitchen and leaning on the counter so they’re eye to eye. “Jeno called me.” 

Donghyuck’s eye roll is instantaneous. “Of _course_ he did.” 

“It’s because he cares.” 

“If you guys truly cared, you’d stay out of my _damn_ business.” 

“Donghyuck!” Doyoung chides, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t talk to me like that. I know this is a hard time for you, but it doesn’t give you the right to lash out at any of us.” 

"I'm not lashing out," Donghyuck grits his teeth, fists clenching underneath the counter, out of Doyoung's view. "I just don't understand why it's so hard for you all to believe that I'm fine. Why can't you just understand that?" He hears the exact moment his voice breaks, and knows he's screwed. His true feelings, given away at the drop of a hat. And because they know each other so well, because he's known his members since they were children, one glance at Doyoung's slightly widened eyes and it's clear he heard it too.

"Donghyuck." His voice drips with sincerity, with care, and it leaves a bitter taste in Donghyuck's mouth. He doesn't want it, doesn't need it - everything is being blown out of proportion. He wants to leave, escape the look in his eyes, that Donghyuck is broken, and simply naive to that fact. He's fine.

Despite only just sitting down, Donghyuck moves to slide off the chair. Doyoung rises to full height. "It was when we had our first practice without Taeyong and Mark," he starts,. before Donghyuck can leave. Donghyuck frowns at him, but he stays put. "That's when I first noticed something was off with you."

"I'm fine," Donghyuck whispers. "I'm fine, I promise."

"It's Mark, isn't it?"

Donghyuck scrambles to deny it, to make up an excuse. But his throat closes over and his mouth won't open, no words appearing in his blank mind. The stinging in his eyes, now a familiarity, pains him more than usual. But his tears stay unshed, and he stares solemnly down at the counter, willing any words to come.

"It's okay," Doyoung murmurs, reaching across to touch his shoulder. He wants to shrug him off, but he isn't cruel. "Everything you're feeling is perfectly fine. And understandable. No one is judging you, Donghyuck."

"It's just stress," Donghyuck croaks. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I just can't-- nothing feels normal anymore. I don't know what to do."

He peers up at Doyoung, who is smiling reassuringly. "None of us do. But that's why we communicate."

_I think you should call Mark._

That's what Jeno had told him, only an hour earlier. But he doesn't want to depend on him, doesn't need him. He can do just fine on his own, like he always has. He'll get over the slump, just as he always does. He can deal with the stupid emotions. And he hopes that Doyoung won't mention anything.

Thankfully, he doesn't. "You should shower. I'll make you something to eat."

Donghyuck refuses to look at him as he leaves the room.

The spray of the shower is freezing, goosebumps breaking out on his skin. His feet ache as he stands on the tiles, waiting for the water to heat up before he steps in.

The shower has always been a place for thoughts he doesn't entertain during the rest of his days, and tonight, unfortunately, it happens to be the case. The whole point of staying in the mindset of being fine is that he doesn't actually think about _how_ or _why_ he's fine, it's simply the state he chooses to be in. But if he really digs deep, tears at the very core of his throbbing heart, he is anything but. And he hasn't been for a while, not since he bid goodbye to the very person so good at keeping him together without a clue.

Poking a hand in, he decides the water is hot enough for his liking, and hopefully enough to dull the persistent thoughts. If he gives into them once, it'll be over. He won't be able to keep up the role no matter how good he is at it -- he lowers his shield once, and he'll forever be vulnerable.

But he's always vulnerable, he thinks, as he slides to the bottom of the shower. His feet are as hot as a stove, flames licking at his heels. He feels relief the instant he sits on his arse, and keeps off his feet, but the minute he flimsily picks up a bottle of shampoo, the muscles in his arms shout their protests. He's sore all over, the consequence of overwhelming himself. He grits his teeth as he massages the soapy substance into his hair, determined to make it work.

The temperature is near scalding, his thighs a blooming red. But still, he shivers, and for the first time the hurt in his chest feels too much to bear. The clear glass door of the shower is too foggy for him to stare at his reflection, but he doesn't want to anyway. He knows what he'd see staring back, himself, shred apart and bleeding.

He wants - he wants Mark.

It's a shock to his system, admitting the one thing he'd been so adamant at denying, as he pictures his best friend, the one he wants most. The one he needs.

A tear slides down his cheek with no warning, mingling with the shampoo he continues to sloppily applies to his hair. They both wash away with the water, as if they were never there. He tries to contain it, allow himself just one tear, but the others follow in quick succession. He covers his mouth in a weak attempt to muffle his sobs, but once he starts he can't stop. He prays the sound of the shower will save him, and that any members shuffling around will be none the wiser. It's as though there is a rock that sits on his chest, pushing down with all its might, until he can handle it no more.

If Mark were here, he'd probably laugh at him for being so silly. But Donghyuck pictures him anyway, holding him, patting his matted hair and telling him he'll be fine. That he is fine. It's infuriating, but Mark would probably make it hurt less, the way he does without even realising. He could flip Donghyuck's world upside down without a hint of knowledge, of the effect he has.

But Mark isn't here, and he won't be for a while. Mark is thousands of miles away, and Donghyuck's throat is on fire.

"I need you, you piece of shit," Donghyuck cries into the stream of shower water. It washes away, like everything else. Down the drain, never to exist again, not in his world. He comes to a decision, hand pressing against his chest, right over his heart. His head throbs from the effort to hold in his sobs, even in the privacy of the bathroom.

He should call Mark.

As if he can't possibly get any more pathetic, the t-shirt he throws on isn't his. It's Mark's. It's ugly, a flower pattern that belongs to 2014. He's been stealing his clothes since they were preteens, but the irony isn't lost on him. It would be shameful, if the hand clutching his phone wasn't shaking out of pure worry.

What could he even say? Mark knows him so well that he'd pick up on anything strange in an instant. And Mark is probably busy or asleep, distance separating them in more ways than one. He shouldn't disturb him. But even as he throws himself on his bed, wet hair dampening his pillow, his fingers hover over the familiar contact.

Mark answers instantly, something Donghyuck isn't expecting at all. He gawks at the screen timing their call, phone slipping out of his fingers and bouncing off the bed. He scrambles to retrieve it, praying Mark doesn't hang up - he doesn't think he'll have the strength to call again after this.

"Hello?" Mark is the first to speak, careful doubt seeping through the phone. "Hyuck?"

"You picked up," he replies, though it comes out as more of a question. "I thought you might be busy or something." His attempts to keep his tone neutral are taking up most of his energy, and he slips his eyes shut as he listens to Mark breathing through the other line.

"Of course I picked up." Mark says it with zero hesitation. He sounds groggy, like he's just been wrenched from the grasps of sleep. Donghyuck doesn't know what it means, and his pillow, although wet, feels comfy enough for him to drift off. Mark must notice his obvious silence, because he continues speaking. "Johnny texted me."

Donghyuck makes a pained noise. "Of course he did."

"He didn't say much. Told me to call you. I only saw the texts like seconds before you were calling me, anyway. Is everything okay?"

Donghyuck chuckles dryly, gripping his shorts for something to hold on to. A lifeline. "Of course. Why wouldn't they be?"

"Hyuck." Mark has been dancing around him from the start of the call, his tone polite and a little wary. This time, Donghyuck feels him push down. Wanting an answer, from someone he knows doesn't give in easily. "You don't sound okay. You can tell me, you know. I'm your person - or did you forget?"

Donghyuck's heart picks up speed, sweat forming on his palms. As he'd figured, Mark notices instantly. And Mark is the one person he'd consider baring his soul to. "You're my person?" he splutters.

Mark giggles, soft and sweet. It's a knife slice through the building tension, and Donghyuck relaxes his shoulders. "Yeah, I'm your person. I need you, and you need me. Not like, all the time, but when it counts. And we'll always be there for each other when it counts, dude."

A whine rips from Donghyuck's throat. "I can't believe you said something so fucking _cheesy_ and then ended it with _dude_." Donghyuck rolls over on his bed, covering his eyes with his forearm, phone still pressed against his ear. "I can't believe you."

"You'll get something sweet when you're honest with me."

Donghyuck shivers. Once again, they toe the invisible line they've been stood against ever since they've known each other. And like always, Donghyuck's deepest, darkest desire to leap over the line will be what has him sharing his innermost thoughts to Mark, with barely a protest in his mind. And Mark knows it too, Donghyuck can hear the grin in his voice, can imagine him laying in his bed in a hotel room, a satisfied smile on his stupid face. Oh, how he misses it.

A silence falls. Donghyuck wants to take the leap, tell Mark what he so desperately has tried to keep hidden from the world, his members, the man himself. Vulnerability is terrifying, even more so when allowing the one person who has the ability to break you apart, to see it.

"Sometimes," Donghyuck is the first to speak. His tone is light, a mere whisper, but the sentence that follows has always weighed heavily on his mind, the implications of it all. What saying it will mean for them, going forward. "You're the only thing that keeps me going."

Mark pauses. There's a rustle through the phone, and Donghyuck can picture him adjusting in bed, gnawing on his bottom lip as he ponders what to say.

"You never seemed to need me."

Donghyuck falters, eyes darting to the door. He doubts anyone can hear them, but still, Mark has never been so raw with him. He's never been so raw with Mark. He wants to laugh at his response, how preposterous it is. Of course he needs Mark, he's always needed Mark. He's always felt like he's shown it too much, always finds himself pulling back, because he repeatedly depends on Mark. He's been a constant at his side since they were young, encouragement when his dancing is off, when his voice won't do what he wants, when it's late at night and the tears won't stop falling because he misses home. Mark has been there, been what he needs most. Has held him, fingers running through his hair, breath heavy against his neck. Has kept his distance but insisted they watch a movie, something to distract Donghyuck from his nagging thoughts. Has texted him stupid videos because his sense of humour is strange, but he wants to share it with Donghyuck anyway.

But he doesn't say all of that. It's getting late for him, and Mark's day is just beginning. He doesn't want to leave him with that -- especially when he can't gauge his reaction.

"I've always needed you," is what he decides to say. The truth, simplified. "You're the only person I've ever let myself need that isn't my mother."

"Romantic," Mark snorts.

And there is the line between them again, begging to be crossed over. They come closer each day that passes, but with Mark miles away, somehow it seems even more blurry than usual.

"What're you gonna do when you get back?" Donghyuck throws out another topic, to veer the subject away from the dangerous territory they keep finding themselves in. He expects a response like work out, go for a meal, play some games.

But Mark is persistent, and brave when given a phone to communicate. "Kiss you."

He says it quickly, and Donghyuck almost doesn't catch it. But he does, and he flushes red. He tells himself no one can see him, it's okay if he seems a little flustered, but Doyoung could come in at any moment. And he doesn't want to give Mark the satisfaction. "Huh?" he squeezes out.

Mark hums. Donghyuck hears another shuffle, like he's leaving his bed. Probably to get ready for the day's schedules. He doesn't sound affected at all, despite being the most flighty person Donghyuck knows. If anything, he sounds so sure of himself. No, sure of them. "Is that weird?"

Donghyuck feels his cheeks with the back of his hand, warm to the touch. He focuses on using a neutral tone for an entirely different reason this time, determined not to fall for anything _Mark_ would say. Mark, who cringes at anything remotely romantic. "No. It's not weird."

It isn't, he supposes. It's just them. The way they're always supposed to be.

"I was talking to Taeyong yesterday, and he mentioned something that made me realise this thing." Mark clears his throat. "I don't really have a physical place to call home, there'd be too many."

Donghyuck realises where he's going with this, and huffs. "Mark Lee, _seriously--"_

"A place only feels like home if you're there with me."

His laugh times perfectly with Donghyuck's groan. "You are literally the most embarrassing--"

There's a knock on his door, and it opens slightly, Doyoung poking his head in. "Food's ready."

Donghyuck nods, and he leaves, but not before shooting him a relieved smile. In some ways, Donghyuck feels relieved, too. Lighter, less weighed down every time he so much as breathes. "I have to go," he tells Mark, who's been waiting patiently on the other line.

"Me too," he replies. Neither of them sound very enthusiastic.

"Can I call you tomorrow? Same time?" He doesn't know what makes him ask. He feels weak just asking.

"Yeah, of course. I want you to."'

And that's all it takes.

Donghyuck doesn't ask when Mark will be coming home. Schedules can change in an instant, or there can be issues with flights, and he'd rather save himself that pain, of looking forward to something only to have it ripped away. The rest of the members have still been walking on eggshells around him, noting that he's been in a better mood but not wanting to push it. It's been a few weeks since his conversation with Johnny, and he hasn't brought up the subject again, for which Donghyuck has been grateful.

He hasn't really allowed himself to think after the phone call with Mark. They'd had a few scattered calls since, but he's preferred to throw himself into practice. Even now as he lays in bed, his muscles throb from all his work. He's rubbed some cream on them to help speed up the recovery process, but it's never a delightful experience.

The room is empty, Johnny is out for dinner with Jaehyun, so Donghyuck listens to his music alone. He drifts in and out of sleep, his body restless inside the warm sheets. He's so distracted by his own uncomfortableness, that his brain takes a second to process another body slipping into his bed beside him, pulling him against their chest.

"I'm home," a voice whispers against his neck, and Donghyuck melts into the hold in an instant.

They lay in silence, Donghyuck pulling out his AirPods as Mark wraps his arms around his waist. He's still clad in his clothes from the airport, almost like Donghyuck's room is the first place he came. And it is, because he peers over the bed and there it is -- Mark's suitcase leaning against the wall. He cracks a smile, and it hurts the muscles because it's been a while since smiling has been this easy, but it is. Mark is back, and he doesn't feel as empty or drained anymore.

"Took you long enough," Donghyuck whispers.

He shifts to face Mark, who grins down at him with disheveled hair and tired eyes. He's always working so hard, and even when he finally takes a break, he's here, working hard for Donghyuck. "I'm here, aren't I?" His grip tightens on Donghyuck's waist. "And there's something I have to do." Donghyuck frowns at him, but he leans closer, breath tickling his lips. "You know, now that I'm back."

Donghyuck doesn't have a chance to guess what he's talking about, because Mark's lips are already meeting his. There's no rush, Mark kisses slow and deep. Their mouths slide against each other like it's always meant to be, but there isn't a hint of desperation, Mark's tongue gently brushing against his lips. It's a little bit uncomfortable, navigating in their restricted position along with the weird feeling of kissing his best friend. But they have all the time in the world.

At the same time, it feels as if it were meant to be. Mark and Donghyuck. Here and now.

They pull away, Donghyuck leaning his forehead against Mark's. They share awkward smiles, and Mark opens his mouth as though he wants to say something, the look in his eyes resembling the same wariness of all his other members, every time they asked him the dreaded question. But this time, Donghyuck already has him covered.

"I'm okay," he murmurs. "I'm fine."

And this time, he is. 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/retroyangs) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/retroyangs)


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